


How Come You Don't Want Me?

by thekingofcarrotflowers



Series: Closer [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship, Bull is a good wingman, Canon Trans Character, Crushes, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Light Angst, Lovers eventually, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Self-Doubt, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 18:12:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4231767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekingofcarrotflowers/pseuds/thekingofcarrotflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian's got a bit of a crush on the only other 'Vint in Skyhold, and the man doesn't exactly return his affections.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Come You Don't Want Me?

**Author's Note:**

> Thought Dorian & Krem's developing feeling for each other would be fun to explore!
> 
> Shout out to duprass42 on Tumblr for reading and reviewing it! <3

When Dorian sauntered into the tavern for lunch, he found it mostly empty. The Inquisitor was away on a mission, taking Blackwall and Sera, who were usually palling around and being obscene. It was earlier than Dorian usually made his entrance, and he wondered vaguely if this was common for the time of day. He scanned the crowd, spotting Bull with a lapfull of redhead, who waved at him from across the tavern. Dorian nodded politely at him, thinking how strange it was that his natural-born enemy had become one of his first friends down south. Then, his eyes fell on Krem, sitting at his perch in the corner, looking already bored.

  
“Greetings, Cremisius,” Dorian said warmly, moving in the man’s direction. There was something about his fellow countryman that drew him in — maybe the fact that Krem’s an outcast from their homeland, too. Maybe it’s the fact that Dorian was still terribly homesick, and it would be nice to find someone to share the good memories of the north with, to speak Tevene with. Now might be a good time to try to smooth some of the tension over between them. He was sober, less likely to say anything embarrassing or unintentionally insulting, and the tavern was mostly empty.

  
“Krem,” the man corrected, not turning his attention on Dorian.

  
“Ah, yes, right,” Dorian cleared his throat nervously, glancing in the direction Krem was looking. He wasn’t sure Krem was actually looking in anything in particular, and he started to wonder if maybe Krem was just looking away from _him_.

  
“Is it usually this quiet at this hour of the day? I’m rather surprised the regulars aren’t already up to their eyeballs in ale,” Dorian glanced around again, returning his gaze to look expectantly at Krem.

  
“Not all of us have enough coin to pickle our livers every day,” Krem stated, and Dorian blinked at him. _Krem_ was certainly in here more often than Dorian, but the man knew it was meant to make a jab at his prior status in Tevinter.

  
“Really, we aren’t so different, you and I,” Dorian offered, searching for a way to connect with the warrior. Surely, they both spent enough time in the tavern that being on amicable terms wasn’t such a bad thing. Plus, if Bull kept insisting Dorian drank with them, it would make it a lot easier to sit at his table if Krem wasn’t ignoring him constantly. Dorian cursed his strange attraction to the man as he waited for Krem to say _something_.

  
“Yeah, is that so?” Krem actually _looked_ at him as he spoke, but it was skeptical, a smirk on his lips.

  
Dorian swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, “I heard tale of your flee south from the Bull. We’re both outcasts from the Imperium, trying to hold true to what we know is right.” He hoped his honest admiration of the man showed through. He hadn’t realized exactly why he liked Krem so much until those words came out, and he realized how _brave_ and _strong_ Krem seemed for his decisions.

  
“We’re nothing alike, Altus,” Krem glared at Dorian briefly, before turning away again.

  
Dorian gaped for a moment, mouth moving as he searched for something to say. Bull watched from his spot, ignoring the woman stroking at his neck, and took pity on the man.

  
“Hey, Dorian!” Bull called, Dorian jumping slightly at his booming voice, “Sit down and have some lunch. C’mon!”

  
Feeling thoroughly embarrassed, Dorian shuffled over to the table. Hesitantly, he plopped down into one of the seats, his usually charm and wit crumbling away for the time being as he tried to recover from Krem’s curt words.  Bull eyed him as he picked at the food that was ordered for him, and huffed out a sigh when Dorian quickly excused himself after barely eating anything on the plate in front of him.

  
“Aw, c’mon, Krem!” Bull threw a hand up, giving his lieutenant a frustrated look, “Can’t deny that the guy’s tryin’!”

  
Krem let out a long sigh and drank more of his wine, slowly shaking his head.

 

\---

  
  
“You like him, don’t you?” Bull asked as they trail at the back of the Inquisitor’s pack a week later. Bull hurt his bad knee again, stepping in a nug burrow or _something_ during the last fight. It could have been worse, if Dorian hadn’t thrown up the barrier as a demon came crashing towards the fallen man. Dorian fell back to walk alongside him to keep an eye on the Bull. They had been walking in comfortable silence for some time, Dorian giving the other man worried glances occasionally since he was still limping after a healing potion.

  
“Cole is a nice person, yes, a bit unsettling but —” Dorian deflected the question, gesturing instead at the boy in front of them, knowing what Bull’s truly getting at.

  
“Dorian, you know I mean Krem.”

  
“That’s—”

  
His reflex was to blow it off, say it’s ridiculous to accuse him of _liking_ Krem. The man was a Soporati, and he barely tolerated the Altus. Still, it wasn’t in the least bit ridiculous to like the man. He was _strong_ , muscular shoulders able to heave up a weapon larger than Bull’s. He was _kind_ , extending his welcome to the spastic Sera and Cole’s spooky presence (though not quite extending it to Dorian, which made his chest do something strange he tried not to think too much into). He was _handsome_ , all tan skin and deep brown eyes and that thing his hair did after—

  
Dorian cleared his throat instead, unsure what else to say.

  
“I get it. Krem’s a sweetheart and a looker,” Bull winked at him, and Dorian let out a grumble of agreement. He glared at Cole, almost daring the boy to turn around and say something. Now, his mind was full of Krem training in the yard, skin slick with sweat, hair curling against his forehead. Of Krem laughing in the tavern, sloshing wine from the bottle, raising it during a loud chorus of singing from the Chargers. Of Krem _smiling_ , that beautiful, pearly smile Dorian rarely had the blessing to see, and of course, it had ever been directed at _him_. Cole spared him a glance then, and Dorian’s sure his thoughts were loud. He could tell Cole’s lips were moving, mumbling words and sparing Dorian from having to hear them for once. Really, having to suffer through the conversation with _Bull_ was torture enough.

  
“Yes, I’ll be honest, Krem has some sort of…” Dorian waved his hand, searching for the right word, “ _Allure_. It doesn’t _mean_ anything.”

  
“Sure, sure,” Bull clapped his hand on Dorian’s back, nearly bowling him over, “Why don’t we ask Cole?”

  
“What, no!” Dorian squawked, eyes going wide for a minute before he realizes the Bull was bluffing. Instead, he glared daggers, “You sneaky—”

  
Bull wagged a finger at him teasingly, “Gotta cozy up with the family first, right?”

  
“ _Ugh_ , you’re impossible!” Dorian threw his hands up,  stalking ahead, walking somewhere ahead of Bull and purposely behind Cole.

 

\---

  
  
Later, at camp, Cole hesitantly sat down next to Dorian by the fire. The Inquisitor and Bull were off cleaning their weapons, and one of the officers was roasting meat over the crackling fire. Dorian glanced at him, giving a breathy sigh, before looking back down into the mug of steaming, awful coffee. Some time ago, he’d given the boy the go ahead to ask questions and _pry_. He should have known better than to give the spirit permission to poke at his mind, should have known it would only lead to more hurt.

  
“Ah, I’ve been expecting you,” Dorian muttered into his coffee before taking a drink. Ever since the conversation came up with Bull, it kept creeping back up, nagging at the back of his mind. He had been worried that Cole could hear it all, the buzzing storm of worry and uncertainty and want in the back of his mind. Krem couldn’t have any feelings for him. He was a good man, and Dorian was, well—

  
“It hurts, to keep it all bottled up inside,” Cole stated, trying to keep his voice low because he’s _trying_ to listen to Varric’s advice and not be so _obvious_ about voicing the pain, “Unlearning not to hope for more, but I’m not worth it. Not worth his smiles or his kindness or his touch.”

  
Dorian scrubbed at his face, never quite ready to hear what Cole had to say _out loud_ despite how much he tried to brace for it, how much he thought those things in his head.

  
“Oh, but Dorian, you _are_ ,” Cole insisted, a shaky hand touching lightly at Dorian’s shoulder, “I don’t understand. Why can’t you just tell him?”

  
Dorian sucked in a sharp breath, “I’ve tried to explain before, things aren’t as cut and dry as you try to make it, Cole. Just because you feel a certain way … it doesn’t mean anything.”

  
Cole frowned deeply, studying Dorian’s face and the hurt from inside that was now obvious on the outside, “Can't hate you for hiding if you burn so brilliantly.”

  
“Alright, Cole, I think I’ve had just about enough of this conversation,” Dorian winced, taking another long drink of his coffee that tasted like dirt to try to keep himself from saying anything cruel to Cole. The boy wanted to help, foolishly thinking things could be fixed by words, but Dorian knew better. Words didn’t stop his father from trying to change him, words didn’t keep Alexius from making all the foolish decisions the man made, words never made any of the men in Dorian’s bed stay. Dorian was starting to wonder if he had anything left in him worth giving to someone else, and he wouldn’t force Krem to be a victim of his next failed attempt.

  
“I made it worse again,” Cole sighed, bowing his head. Sadness bubbled up inside of him. He had quite the record of making things worse with Dorian instead of better. All of Dorian’s hurt was too tangled with love, and pulling at the pain made things snap, “I will let you be, Dorian.”

  
As Cole drew away from the campfire, Dorian felt eyes on him. Hesitantly, he lifted his head to find Bull watching him from across the camp. Dorian wanted to be mad, wanted to shout at Bull to mind his own business, but he didn’t have the energy for it right now. Bull shifted slightly, nodding at the man because pretending he wasn’t listening was a stupid option. At that, Dorian stood and headed back to his tent to finish his coffee in peace.

 

\---

  
  
For the last few days of the trip, Dorian was stubbornly quiet, worried that too much talking would open up room for either Cole or Bull to go sticking their noses in his business again. Instead, he does what was asked of him (grumbling under his breath at times, like when they try to herd that damned halla for three hours in the hot afternoon sun), retired to his tent before everyone else, dressed and ate and readied for traveling before the others were awake. He was used to going it alone, so it wasn’t that much of an effort for him. It even meant he had time to read the novel he brought along with him, which was something that rarely happened when the others insisted they had some bonding time around the fire. The others still invited him to sit with them, tried to idly chat to avoid anything Dorian didn’t want to talk about, but being the butt of Dorian’s frustration wasn’t a fun experience for anyone.

  
Upon their arrival at Skyhold, Dorian slunk off to the library to dig out the bottle of wine he had tucked away in the corner. It was easier to sit and drink here than have to face Krem again, have Cole and Bull and the Inquisitor all know the feelings that were building, the feelings he couldn’t seem to shake no matter how hurtful Krem had been. Krem wasn’t entirely wrong — he had been a pompous, spoiled heir for a long time. He still acted like it, hid away the fact that his room in Skyhold was mostly comprised of books and whatever he could scrape up from the still-abandoned parts of the castle with pomp and bragging. If he was Krem, he was sure he wouldn’t be too fond of the man he was, either.

  
It was only when Dagna invited him out for drinks and talk of magical theory that Dorian made an appearance in the tavern again, days later. He bought the dwarf’s ales and they poured over her notes together, her theories on red lyrium, on how the Red Templars’ bodies worked when they were infected with the stuff, on the benefits of fire. He found himself relaxing, chuckling at the woman’s enthusiasm as she giggled about a weapon exploring when she tried to modify. Still, it was hard to ignore Krem’s occasional glances, and Dorian wondered what he did wrong this time.

  
During one of Krem’s trips to the bar, he headed in Dorian’s direction with three ales in hand. When he arrived at the table, he slid two of them over to the pair, a small smile on his face.

  
“Gee, thanks!” Dagna exclaimed happily, having just noticed her mug was running low.

  
“What’s this?” Dorian questioned, looking skeptically at the mug between his hands.

  
“A peace offering,” Krem shrugged, “Bull made me realize I’ve been a little hard on you. S’not your fault you’re a ‘Vint, I suppose.” A smirk pulled at his lips.

  
“Ah, well…” Dorian glanced downward, feeling as if he was a child again, another boy’s mother insisting their son apologize and play nice.

  
“Also, thanks,” Krem said it grudgingly, looking uncomfortable.

  
“For what?”

  
Krem shrugged again, glancing away, “Bull mentioned that you might have saved his skin once or twice. Wouldn’t want to see the big lug come back on a stretcher.”

  
“Think nothing of it,” Dorian waved his hand slightly, though a small blush rose into his cheeks, “We’ve got to watch out for our friends out here, yes? End of the world and all that.”

  
“Mm,” Krem nodded, examining Dorian’s face for a minute before heading back to his table. Dorian watched him go, something hopeful stirring up in his chest. Bull was smirking at him, shot him a quick thumb’s up, before both men turned back to their conversations.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I plan on this being a bigger series (:  
> Come chat/send prompts/talk to me here: thekingofcarrotflower.tumblr.com/


End file.
